That spot had always belonged to Wan Zhi'an, but here was this young boy—clearly poor, dressed in rags, but wi…
That spot had always belonged to Wan Zhi'an, but here was this young boy—clearly poor, dressed in rags, but with clear, bright eyes and an obvious talent for chess. For reasons he couldn't quite name, Wan Zhi'an felt a wave of irritation. He said something less than friendly and, egged on by the crowd, sat down to challenge the boy. He lost—not badly, but a loss is a loss. The young boy praised him, genuinely impressed that someone could play so well on their first attempt. That only made Wan Zhi'an more frustrated—a loss still stung, no matter how it happened.